


now i'm running, and i can't stop anywhere i go

by theoneinquisitor



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Slow Burn, anyways i made a theme park prompt into an angsty mess, oops i did it again, with very little plot and character development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneinquisitor/pseuds/theoneinquisitor
Summary: He’s just the boy who conquers his fears and could conquer the world. She’s the girl who can’t get on the ride.  A Modern Bellarke AU.





	now i'm running, and i can't stop anywhere i go

**Author's Note:**

> literally this was supposed to be a drabble. i hate myself right now. but i hope you enjoy unnecessary angst and my attempt at being deep and using rollercoasters as a metaphor lmao.It starts with a rollercoaster.

It starts with a rollercoaster.

 

(Or rather, an amusement park. It open the summer before her Sophomore year of high school, an exciting and shiny new place in the otherwise dingy town of Arkadia.)

 

The first time Clarke sees Polaris, she feels her knees shake and stomach fall to the ground along with her jaw. It’s a daunting sight, the way the metal contraption rises into the air, seemingly touching the clouds, and falling straight down into a series of twists and turns shielded underground. It’s the grand opening and the line stretches down and around, giving her ample time to panic.

 

But her friends have talked about nothing else besides this rollercoaster, nothing else going on in such a small town,  and her crush is smiling at her, waving her over to the ramp so they can get in line. She’s fifteen, awkward and still desperately wants to impress the people she surrounds herself with. No fear. Be brave. She puts one foot in front of the other and follows, trying to ignore the way her heartbeat seems to be coming through her eardrums. 

 

She’s terrified. Absolutely terrified.

 

It takes forty-five excruciating minutes to get to the front of the line and Finn asks if she wants to ride up front. She doesn’t, but he gives her another smile and she tells herself it will be worth it because she’ll be with him. She sits down and manages to buckle the chest restraint before she begins to panic. Finn turns to her with worry, patting her hand and telling her how much she’s going to love it. 

 

His hand is sweaty and small. She’s going to be sick.

 

The coaster attendant reaches down to check the buckle, but freezes as her leg bounces up and down. She meets his eyes and becomes acutely aware of the freckles dusting his nose and the depths of brown irises, like swimming in chocolate.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his hand leaning lightly on the side of the cart. 

 

She opens her mouth to say something, but it comes out as a small cough and her breathing is erratic. She can’t do this. She can’t do this. She doesn’t want to.

 

“Hey,” he says gently, and the gravel in his voice settles in her chest, a calm passing through the chaos, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can let you off.”

 

“Aw, Clarke!” Finn whines, his voice filled with nothing resembling the same concern, “Stop, you’re going to love it!”

 

She stares at the employee, his blue polo a nice contrast to his tanned skin and dark curls, and nods. She can’t speak at the moment, her throat is locked and hands are clammy. But he seems to understand what she means. He unhooks the latch pinning her to the death contraption and lets her jump off. He pushes it back down and just misses the glare he sends Finn’s way, causing the boy to shrink into his seat with a roll of his eyes. She’s standing in the middle of the track, knees knocking together and trying to figure out how to get down.

 

She feels a soft hand on her elbow and let’s him guide her to the exit. She finally catches the nametag on his shirt.  _ Bellamy. _

 

“Thank you,” she whispers, finally gaining some control over her body as she adjusts to being back on solid ground.

 

He gives her a friendly smile, “No problem. It’s an intimidating ride. Not for everyone.”

 

She looks over his shoulder and watches the cart take off at an abnormal speed and she wishes, more than anything, that she could be that brave. Maybe one day she will.

 

“I think I’ll get there,” she tries to say confidently but it comes out as more of a question.

 

He laughs and she finds she likes the way it sounds, “I’m sure you will, Princess.”

 

She tilts her head at the nickname before he nods at her shirt and her cheeks flare a light shade of pink. She’s wearing the shirt Finn bought her from the gift shop. It’s cheesy and childish. She turns to leave but he grabs her elbow again, and she’s surprised by the contact.

 

“If you ever want to try it out, I’ll be here to cheer you on.”

 

It’s a strange thing to hear, but wanted. A support she hadn’t really known she needed. She gave him her best smile and finally left the area so he could get back to work.

 

Bellamy.

 

+

She loves the park, the over priced food and the laughter that it brings. She and her friends make a habit of going, it's a place of much more interest than the movies or the diner in their small town. She feels good. Alive. Happy. 

 

Each time she goes, she gets in the long line to Polaris with her friends, never with the intention of riding. Instead, she develops a habit of getting to the front and when the gates open to let them on, she watches as they all get on. Bellamy just lets her stand next to him for the seven minute long ride (not that she’s counted). 

 

“Maybe start small,” he tells her one day, tossing the “must be this tall to ride” tool from one hand to the other, “The kids ride or something.”

 

It’s how most of their conversations are -- trivial and small. Acquaintances, yet he understands her in a way. It’s not a big deal, she thinks. 

 

But somehow she always manages to leave the ride with a smile on her face. 

 

+

 

The last good day she has with her father is in late October. They ride things that spin and jump and wander about the place. They eat chili cheese fries and laugh when Clarke drops one on her new white shirt. He gets her to ride the kid coaster, Sat-Star One, his bulky frame nearly too big for the ride. 

 

He holds her hand, grinning as they hit the small hill and she finds herself smiling and giggling and by the time it’s over, she asks to ride again. Her heart is light by the time they leave, high on the adrenaline from the small twists and turns. It seems so silly to feel this way but it’s one step closer. She’s conquering her fear, just like her dad has always told her to.

 

“How about this one?” he asks as they pass Polaris and laughs when she vehemently shakes her head.

 

He jokes, “I think it’s because your mom rode one when she was pregnant.”  .

 

They’re just passing the ramp when she sees him coming down, collar unbuttoned and name tag missing from his chest. He must be done for the day. 

 

He spots her and pulls his hand out of his pocket to wave. She nudges her dad to stop walking and gives him a shy smile.

 

“Princess,” he greets as he approaches and her dad watches her curiously. 

 

“Uh, hi,” she stammers and points to her left, “My dad.”

 

Like a young gentleman, he offers his hand, “I don’t suppose you’ve convinced your daughter to ride?” 

 

Jake Griffin laughs, hearty and ridiculous, “Hell would have to freeze over first, I’m afraid. But I got her on Sat-Star.” 

 

Bellamy smiles at that, “Gotta start somewhere, right? Proud of you, Princess.” 

 

She blushes and feels a pinch on her back, she swats his hand with another blush.

 

“She’ll get there,” her dad responds with a chuckle and Bellamy nods with a grin.

 

She likes the easy way they smile at each other, like maybe they could sit and talk about life and laugh, even if at her expense. It feels familiar and warm, but Bellamy takes his leave as quickly as he comes.

 

“I’ll see you around,” he tells her with a wink and she just grins as he walks away. 

 

Her dad nudges her shoulder playfully, “So that’s why you wanted to come here huh?”

 

She denies it, of course. She loves spending time with him, but the cute roller coaster assistant? Just a bonus.

 

+

 

Not a week later, Jake Griffin is killed in a car accident. She’s in the passenger seat and by some saving grace, she survives with nothing more than a scar running from her hipbone to her ribcage. Her heart, she believes, is still next to the remnants of the car. Or maybe in the ground with her dad.

 

She knows that it’s gone. 

 

+

 

She’s in the car with her mom, head pressed against the glass of the window as they pass the park. It’s dark and still. How appropriate, she thinks bitterly before turning the other way.

 

+

 

Six months pass in a lifeless blur. She goes to school like she’s supposed to. She tries to smile when Finn kisses her or when Wells comes over to watch their favorite shitty reality tv show. May comes and goes and it’s well into June when Wells shows up, grinning from ear to ear telling her he has a surprise. 

 

She goes with him and when he pulls up to the park, it’s alive again. Moving and loud and overwhelming.

 

“Take me home,” she demands quietly. The last time she was here, so was he. Laughing and happy and alive. She stares at her shoes, willing the tears to go away. 

 

“I know, Clarke,” Wells says, threading his hand into hers and squeezing, “Please, just come inside. You can find something here.”

 

“Like what?” she murmurs, trying to shake the memories of it all from her head. 

 

“I don’t know,” he says sadly, “But I just want you to try.”

 

He looks so hopeful and she feels something stir in her chest. So she goes. 

 

Wells is someone who understands her general fear of heights and shares a disdain for things that move too fast. He asks if she wants to get on Sat-Star, but she shakes her head. It’s too close. Too personal. And she wants to feel something. 

 

They end up on Heda, a wooden coaster with only a slight drop but a rough ride. Wells asks if she’s sure and she takes his hand and practically drags him up the stairs. As fate would have it, she spots him on the deck, his hair a little longer than she remembers but still so very...Bellamy.

 

(And it’s weird to think that because they’re nothing more than intimate strangers.)

 

She’s standing at the front of the line, her stomach turning the way it does when she’s nervous. She’s not afraid this time, her breathing is only slightly irregular and Wells is right next to her. She’ll be fine. She sees him just as she sits down in the car. He meets her eyes as she’s half-way in, grinning in a way that almost blinds her. It’s bright and happy and different. Her heart thumps loudly.

 

“Starting out small, huh, Princess?” he asks as he helps push the lap bar down. She gives him a shy smile in return, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She notices a ring on his finger, thick and brass. Senior ring, she tucks the knowledge away (for reasons unknown to her, but she’s interested in the same way any sixteen year old girl would be). She feels her heart thumping against her ribcage and she revels in it. Thump, thump, something. It’s something.

 

“You call this small?” Wells scoffs, his voice slightly higher pitched than it had been. 

 

“I told you,” she tells him as he gives the thumbs up to the ride conductor to hit go, “I’m working my way up.”

 

The ride takes off, only jerking her back with a gently push, and it’s fun. She likes the turns and dips and the breeze the causes her hair to tickle her cheek. She and Wells laugh the entire ride. It’s over in only minutes and when she gets off, Bellamy is right there.

 

“Thoughts?”

 

She laughs, giddy and full of adrenaline, her body and mind alive in a way she hasn’t felt in months,“I wish all of them could be that fun.”

 

He looks down at the ground with a chuckle and back up at her from under his mess of curls, “They are. You’ll get there.”

 

Before she leaves the park that day, she purchases a season pass. 

 

+

 

That summer she spends nearly every day at the park. Something about it makes her feel like she’s in a different world. A rush she doesn’t get anywhere else. She isn’t back to being herself. This Clarke Griffin is different and she’s figuring out exactly what that means. 

 

Admittedly, Bellamy becomes a big part of that. Some days he’s working Polaris and she just waves at him in passing, waiting in line with her friends who ride (Finn, uninvited after he decided dating two girls at once was fun) and he gives her a wink. Like they’re two friends sharing a secret. Other days, she sits with him on his lunch break and talks about school and life and everything of remote interest.

 

“How’s your dad?” he asks one day as they share on cup of Dippin Dots. Her spoon hovers above the frozen balls of ice cream and she stares at the grates in the table.

 

The small memory of them together makes her palms go clammy, her heart rate increase. She closes her eyes briefly to catch herself. Deep breathing, is what her therapist calls it. 

 

“Princess?” it’s his favorite thing to call her and she’s grown to love it too, but this time it sounds sad rolling off his tongue. 

 

“He died,” she says finally.

 

He looks like he wants to say more, but he goes with, “I’m sorry.”

 

And leaves it at that, changing the subject to something boring. Something safe. She likes safe.

 

“Where do you go to school?”

 

She’s an incoming junior to his senior, both attending the same high school and never having noticed. He’s witty, she learns, and smart. Motivated. He has a sister, her age and whose name she remembers hearing in passing but never paid much mind to. He loves cheese fries and cherry coke. He’s a history nerd and hopes to one day travel abroad and see all the historical sights of the world. He’s unpredictable and he once rode Polaris eleven times in a row. She thinks he might be the bravest person she knows.

 

“We all have fears, Clarke,” and the way he says it makes her think he’s an enigma, complex and beautiful and scary. Like a roller coaster. He’s a roller coaster and that’s what keeps her at a distance because she can tell already that he’s dangerous. He could be dangerous. 

 

(She keeps coming back for more, all the same.)

 

By the end of the summer, she still isn’t ready for the big one and he gives her shoulder a friendly squeeze when she tells him.

 

“Maybe next year,” he says.

 

“Yeah,” the wind pushes her curls over her shoulder, “Maybe next year.”

 

+

 

She catches him the second week of school and she walks out of the guidance counselors office to find him sitting outside the principal's office with a small cut under his eye. He’s pissed about something, a look unfamiliar on his soft features.

 

“Hi,” she breathes and she watches his shoulder relax and the corner of his lips turn upward.

 

“Hi,” he responds. 

 

Beginning of the end.

 

+

 

She meets Octavia Blake not long after. They’re partnered in Biology and both nearly faint when they dissect the frog. They bond over test anxiety and weird fears.

 

“I’m afraid of the Ocean,” Octavia mumbles during class one day as their teacher drones on about ecosystems. This is what they do, reveal small pieces of each other when they don’t want to pay attention. It’s the closest thing to a best friend she has besides Wells (and she’s been alone since he moved three towns over where his father was just elected Mayor). 

 

“Roller coasters,” Clarke whispers back and her friend smiles.

 

“Yeah, my brother is too.”

 

Brave Bellamy Blake, who once rode Polaris eleven times, is afraid of roller coasters? How could be afraid of something he so resembles?

 

+

 

She spends a lot of time with Octavia and by extension, her brother. They smile at each other, a hidden summer life passing between them. Their own little secret. Their own little thing. He takes her home from school a lot in his piece of shit Ford, something he bought with his amusement park money and he’s really proud of it. She knows she likes him, a stupid school girl crush that causes her to laugh too much and blush when he touches her shoulder and teams up with her to joke on his sister.

 

It’s not a problem, not really. Clarke isn’t naive. 

 

He’s just the boy who conquers his fears and could conquer the world. She’s the girl who can’t get on the ride.  

 

+

 

She gives Finn Collins another chance because she’s a junior in high school and she’s never gone to second base. She’s genuinely curious and he’s apologetic, telling her how pretty she is and how he really wants to work it out. So she kisses him in the hallway and brings him to the Blake household for their annual “Mom goes out of town” party.

 

“Isn’t he the one who made of you for not riding?” Bellamy questions, beer in hand and scowl cursing his beautiful features. The fact that he remembers that moment, their first meeting, makes her smile.

 

“Yeah,” she shrugs, sipping from her own drink, a mix of cheap vodka and Hawaiian Punch, “But he’s different now. Seventeen, you know?”

 

She has no idea what she’s saying, but she doesn’t want him to dislike Finn. Strangely, his opinion is valuable to her. It matters and when he sighs, her stomach goes with it.

 

“Just be careful, Clarke,” he says and grips her wrist for a brief moment, his fingers burning her skin. He walks away and joins his classmates, people more his speed. She watches, something unfamiliar crawling into her heart. 

 

She finds her boyfriend surrounded by a group of guys, strangers to her (though, she doesn’t get around school much, most people are strangers) and he kisses her gently. He’s always so gentle with her now, taking her hand in his and telling her how wonderful she is. They’re picture perfect, a couple to be envious of.

 

She smiles because she’s meant to be happy. Still, strangely, she feels nothing.

+

 

She attends graduation with Octavia, both watching from the stands as Bellamy accepts his diploma, his salutatorian medal bouncing on his chest. She feels something well in her chest, a balloon growing bigger and bigger. Not quite ready to burst, but getting there.

 

She chalks it up to pride because she knows how much he wanted this. How much he deserves it.

  
  


+

 

Summer rolls around again. It’s hot and sticky and going outside is miserable for most people but all the same, she finds routine. Octavia joins her at the park most days, they wander around riding the silliest rides and sharing cotton candy. They bother Bellamy, who resolves to make this the last summer he ever spends in the place. He’s been saving his money since he started working here as best as he can, hardly ever anywhere else but the park. Clarke can’t complain.

 

“I’ll be at Columbia,” he says to the sky as they lounge in one of the grassy areas. She has her head on his stomach and Octavia’s head on hers, “No need for seat belt checks and cleaning up puke.” 

 

She silently thinks about how the park will somehow seem less without him. The rollercoasters still unsettling but less exciting, the food not as good. He makes the place worth coming to, though she’d never say it. 

 

(He is untouchable, like Polaris. Something she so wishes to understand, to be apart of. But that’s just not how it works.)

 

He and Octavia spend every day prepping her for the ride. She rides her first upside down roller coaster with them on either side holding her hands, yelling happily into her ear as she screams into theirs. She thinks she’s ready. She wants to be. Polaris would be her gift to Bellamy, her proof that she can be brave too. But as they stand at the bottom of the ramp, watching it plummet into the ground she shakes her head.

 

“Not yet,” she sighs and they wrap her in a hug, warm and firm and supportive. She hates how her heart skips when she feels the callus of his hands on the exposed skin of her back. She hates that despite everything, she still can’t get on. 

(She doesn’t want to admit it, but part of her hopes it will keep him coming back.)

 

+

 

Aurora Blake dies suddenly in early August. Neither sibling is prepared and Clarke finds herself trying to put their shattered hearts back together. It’s damn near impossible and she thinks she feels her own break for them. She knows this loss, knows it well, but she wasn’t left alone. She had another parent. She had Wells. 

 

“No one,” Bellamy is staring straight ahead at the wall where their family photo glares back, “No one else. Just me. I’m all she has and I have to stay.”

 

She has her head on his shoulder and her feet tucked into the couch. The clock ticks loudly from behind them, it wants them to know its late. It wants them to sleep. But she won’t, not until he does. The funeral happened three days ago but the flowers from the casket still lay on the coffee table right next to the will. 

 

“She left me the house,” his voice doesn’t change, holds no emotion like it used to, “And I have court in two weeks for Octavia.”

 

He deferred his admission the day it happened. He used her laptop to do it and she hates it for him. He was going somewhere, somewhere away from Arkadia and amusement parks. He was going to live life, he was ascending to the highest altitude. Higher than Polaris. Higher than heaven itself. But like any machine, when it moves too fast or takes a sharp turn, it can break down. 

 

“You’re wrong,” she whispers into the silence, her hand finding a perch on his cheek, “Octavia has me. You both do.”

 

+

 

Life goes on. Senior year is another gray area, every day the same. She picks up Octavia for school and suffers through her classes. She walks down the hall with Finn’s arm slung around her shoulder and smile plastered to her face. Her evenings are spent with him, mostly. Bellamy picked up another job in addition to the park, working nights at the diner just on the outside of town. Octavia started working at the daycare after school to help, much to Bellamy’s dismay. 

 

Things fall apart even when they’re trying to hold together. Rock bottom hits them before they even know it’s coming.

 

“Bellamy found some weird alternative candy corn,” Octavia tells her excitedly as they drive to school, “Like reverse flavors or something like that.”

 

Halloween is a holiday they all enjoy, having spent the last one huddled together on the Blake couch watching weird horror movies and eating copious amounts of candy and candy corn. They vowed to do it again this year. But so much has changed since then. A lump forms in her throat.

 

Her hand grips the wheel a little tighter, “Actually, Finn asked me to go with him to Monroe’s.”

 

It’s the biggest party of the year, or has been advertised as such. It’s where the popular kids are going to be, where Finn will be. He helped her pick out her costume, a sexy angel complete with a cute set of wings. She finds that she’s excited but it soon deflates.

 

“Are you serious?” her voice is ice cold and Clarke shrinks against the driver’s seat.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says weakly, “I just thought you all would be working and --”

 

“It’s tradition, Clarke!” her name has never been said with such venom, like she’s abandoning them and unforgivable. Her temper flares.

 

“We literally only did it one time,” she tries to play it off like it isn’t a big deal at first, “It’s not like you all have been around much.”

 

It has nothing to do with the argument, but it slips out anyway and Octavia scoffs loudly, setting her jaw. 

 

“We don’t have a rich mommy to take care of us,” she snaps, “Ours is  _ dead. _ ” 

 

The rest of the drive is silent and when Octavia gets out, she slams the door without a word. She arrives late to Biology later that day and finds Octavia sitting with another girl in the class, Fox or something like that. She glares at Clarke as she sits down and her shoulders sag in defeat. She was an asshole.

 

She struggles with what to do all day, thinking that it’s unfair of Octavia to expect her to be at her beck and call whenever she needs her. But then she thinks about how it’s also unfair that she has to work like she does to survive. Her and Bellamy both. Her heart stutters when she thinks of him, how his feet drag the ground when he walks and he seems to have lost his spark. 

 

Out of order, she muses. Things are just out of order. 

 

She ends up at the Blake house that evening, a stolen six pack in her arms as she knocks on the door. She thinks about how stupid she was to take out her frustration on Octavia, to make her feel unimportant or second best. She wants thinks to be right again. 

 

When no one answers by the fourth knock, she finds the spare key under the flower pot and opens the door. Bellamy’s car is in the driveway and she thinks maybe they’re being stubborn (they’re known to be just that, refusing to give in until the other person budges).  She stops in her tracks when she flips on the hall light and is met with a discarded shirt and moans echoing from the living room. 

 

And she hates that she recognizes him, even by a noise she’s never heard and will never hear him make. The key falls from her fingers and clatters to the ground. 

 

“O?” he calls in a panic and she wills her feet to propel her back out the door. She makes it to the porch when his hand, so much rougher now, grabs her own. 

 

“Clarke?” he’s clearly confused to see her, “O said we rescheduled?”

 

So even in her anger, Octavia hadn’t told him how much of an asshole she’d been. She feels warm affection in her chest for the girl before it’s neatly replaced with something else. A vaguely familiar feeling of something crawling into her heart. 

 

“I’m sorry, I should have called or --” she’s stuttering now, looking everywhere but him, “Sorry for interrupting.” 

 

“It’s fine,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and they stand in front of each other in wait, “Uh, she’s just a friend….we’re just…”

 

Before she can help it, her face contorts in confusion. Does he feel the need to explain this to her? Why is that? 

 

“Don’t worry about it,” she tries her best to smile but she’s sure it isn’t pretty, “I’ll see you.”

 

She leaves him on his porch, tears prickling at her eyes for no particular reason, at least that she knows of (or is willing to acknowledge).  She drives to Monroe’s and parks, still dressed in her jacket and jeans and with fierce determination pooling in her belly. 

 

She has sex for the first time that night in one of the spare bedrooms. Finns hands are awkward and gentle, too gentle. He never touches her hip where the puckered skin is glaring against her pale skin. It’s safe.

 

She likes safe.

 

+

 

And just like that the Blake’s fade from her life in small, broken pieces. Octavia gets a ride from her new boyfriend, a guy named Atom who seems all to eager. Bellamy starts taking online classes through the community college and picks up another job. They become strangers again. Except they’re strangers that know some of her deepest secrets, who understand her in ways unique to only them. 

 

But it’s all part of growing up. You outgrow things. People. Places. 

 

Sometimes you have to leave amusement parks behind. 

 

+

The new year starts with her finding Finn face deep in between another girls thighs. She has developed a habit of walking in on people it seems. She had decided to surprise him in his hometown for New Year’s and was met by this glorious sight. And the worst part isn’t the way he didn’t bother to even move, just shrugged a half-assed apology. It’s that she didn’t feel anything. She calmly walks back to her car and drives home, but not really home. 

 

It’s 2 a.m and she’s sitting outside the Blake house and she considers her options for a moment. It’s wrong, after everything, to call him. But he’s reliable and just as predicted he answers on the third ring.

 

“Clarke?” he’s hesitant, like this might be a trap or dream. But she sighs into the phone and he waits. Waits until she’s ready. 

 

“I’m outside,” she mumbles into the receiver, “Can I...can you just…”

 

“Give me a minute,” and he hangs up. She’s standing outside her car, leaning against the door and tapping the phone against her palm and staring at the familiar blue door. She isn’t sure why she’s here. They don’t owe her anything. Bellamy doesn’t owe her anything.

 

A moment later the door opens and he shuts it gently, no doubt trying not to wake his sister. He pads across the yard, barefoot in just a hoodie and shorts despite it being only forty degrees. She almost laughs, but it gets lost in her chest somewhere. He stops in front of her and waits, though his eyes seem to ask what he wants to know.

 

What happened?

 

“I don’t know,” is what she says first and then runs a hand through her shortened hair, cropped at the chin. She doesn't. Not really, because somehow she let him slip through her fingers. Octavia. For a guy she liked but didn’t love, not really. She lost who she was for a moment and she fucked up because she wanted to be safe. 

 

“You remember how we met,” she states, because there is no questioning it. He’ll always remember her as the panicking girl on his ride. He shoves his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt and smiles at the ground. 

 

“Still afraid of roller coasters aren’t you,” he replies. 

 

She thinks about it, of all the one’s she’s ridden in the last two years. Wooden and metal, upside down and not. She’s not really afraid of those, not anymore. But Polaris… 

 

“Just that one,” she looks over his shoulder, feeling entirely too vulnerable, “I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s the height. The fall and feeling like I can’t breath.”

 

“You’re scared of things that are wild,” he deduces and her neck snaps towards him, eyes wide at his words. He’s staring back at her, sadness coating his features though his eyes remain hidden in the darkness of the early morning. 

 

“You don’t want to feel out of control,” he continues and it’s like he’s reaching into her mind and pulling out her deepest thoughts one by one. It strike her then how he knows her. He  _ knows  _ her. More intimately than Finn ever has. More intimately even than Octavia. And she wonders how it’s possible because there is no way he’s paid attention to her like she has to him, noticing small whimsicalities and habits. 

 

“I found him fucking some other girl tonight,” she replies and he opens his mouth to say something more, probably reassure her even though she doesn’t deserve it, but she shakes her head, “And I don’t care.”

 

A pause, comfortable and needed. He knows when she just needs silence to be silent. 

 

“I didn’t like him,” she continues, “I mean I did, but not...not like I should have. But he gave me stability.” 

 

“He was safe.” 

 

There it is again. It’s stupid how he knows her, stupid how he reads her like an open book when she’s spent so much time trying to keep it hidden on a shelf somewhere. She meets his eyes this time and there’s another pause, and maybe she’s trying to deny the accusation or trying to prove that that’s not who she is, a girl who settles and keeps her feet firmly on the ground. 

 

It’s a bad idea but she does it anyway. 

 

She surges forward and it’s messy. Her lips find his and they’re chapped and dry but she pushes in and he freezes. Her heart is beating rapidly out of her chest and her mind is spinning but then he’s kissing her back. 

 

It’s over too quickly.

 

He pulls back and leans his forehead on her, holding her face in place, “Clarke, hey.”

 

The world is spinning and collapsing around her and she stumbles back, “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”

 

“Clarke…” she hates the pity, hates the way he reaches for her like she might fall apart like a fragile piece of glass. The kiss was nothing to him, just a reaction but not a want.

 

She reaches for her car and opens the door, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

 

She feels his fingers on her wrist just as she tries to get in the car, eye stinging and heart beating furiously in her chest. She’s falling apart. She’s falling apart. 

 

“Don’t go,” she hears him say and it sounds almost desperate, a voice she’s never heard come from here before. But her cheeks are on fire and she wants to get out of here. She can’t be here. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she says again and when she pulls her wrist away, he doesn’t try to stop her again. Instead he watches her drive away. 

 

Stupid, she berates herself, so stupid. 

 

+

 

She gets her acceptance letter from Stanford not a week later. She registers for classes and begins a count down. She needs to get away from this place. 

 

(Her phone buzzes next to her computer, another text from Bellamy. They’ve been all the same: I’ll be here when you’re ready.) 

 

+

 

“I’m sorry about Finn,” Octavia sits her books on the table next to her, sliding into the seat that’s been vacants for the last few months. It’s an olive branch, a way to say she misses her without saying it because Octavia isn’t great at expressing her feelings.

 

Clarke shrugs and gives a slight turn of her lips, “I’m not.” 

 

They sit through class together and it feels normal. As normal as it can. 

 

+

 

Bellamy doesn’t find her until graduation night on the roof of the diner. They were celebrating Octavia’s graduation (and hers, too, unofficially). She’s been avoiding him and he knows it. She isn’t sure what to say, so he says it first.

 

“Stanford, huh?” he calls from behind. She turns and sees him standing with his hands in his jeans (but doesn’t see how much they’re shaking). 

 

“Yeah,” she sighs and she makes room in the space next to her, silently inviting him to join her, “Stanford.”

 

“Congratulations,” he offers, and it sounds genuine if not sad, “I know you’ve always wanted to go there.”

 

They always talked about their hopes and dreams, her desire to go to the best school and become a doctor one day. She wants to help others. And he wants to live -- he wants to do things that make him feel alive. It’s not lost on her that only one of them is getting to do that, live their dreams, and there’s a dull ache in her heart for him. He deserves so much more. 

 

“I’m excited,” she tells him with a soft smile. They’re silent for a moment, just watching the town from the room, the dull light of the ferris wheel glowing in the distance. This feels too much like an ending for them and despite the ups and downs, she doesn’t want it to be. 

 

“What about you?” she turns to him then, “Octavia’s heading to school. You gonna travel? Head to Columbia? Write a book?”

 

He laughs and her skins rises at the sound. She missed it. 

 

“I think I’ll be here. At least for a while.” 

 

_ He deserves more. _

“Why?”

 

They’re staring at one another now, her eyes challenging him because she knows there is no reason for him to let go of his potential. He can do so much more. He doesn’t answer so she answers for him.

 

“Bellamy,” she breathes his name and he closes his eyes, “You are so much more than you give yourself credit for. You’ve always done for other people so maybe it’s time to do for you. You deserve to follow your dreams. Travel. Live.” 

 

When his lips find hers, it’s unexpected but not unwanted (not like it should be). It’s a soft kiss, so much different than the one they shared months ago. It’s a goodbye and an apology all in one. He pulls back and it seems neither can find the words. They just stay there, his hand wrapped into her hair and hers gripping the shirt at his back. They’re melted into one another. 

 

“Promise me something,” she murmurs and he nods, his hands sliding down her back in soft movements. She shivers against his chest, “In four years, you’ll meet me at the park and we can ride together.”

 

She feels his chest rumble beneath her cheek, a deep laugh that shakes her to her toes, “Of course, Princess.” 

 

She isn’t sure how long they stand on the roof in their own little world, an intimate and long goodbye. But when he opens the door to the stairwell and they get ready to reenter the party, he grips her hand and gives her a smile, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.” 

 

+

 

It’s four years later when she finds herself at the gates. The place has changed. Updated rides and themes, the music is modern and there is a much larger crowd. The park has gained momentum, attracting people from outside Arkadia and even the state to come and see. She smiles to herself as she watches a group of teenagers excitedly run past her, talking about the scariest rollercoaster there ever was. 

 

Polaris. 

 

It’s like muscle memory, finding the old ride. When she makes it to the bottom of the ramp, she checks her phone. 

 

**B:** This line is ridiculous. I’ll be in as soon as I can. 

 

She smiles and puts it back in her pocket, looking up as the cart makes it’s decent on the hill. It’s the first time she’s been back in Arkadia since she left. Her mother moved to Boston not long after she left for school and Octavia was in school in New York. Bellamy, though he had been adamant about staying, left only a year after that. He spent a few years in Europe, traveling and doing research with school. He managed to get his Masters this past semester and will begin his doctoral research in the fall. 

 

At Berkeley.

 

When he told her that over the phone last week, she immediately bought her plane ticket back to Arkadia.

 

“We still have a promise to fill,” she smiled into the phone, “And you said when I was ready…”

 

(The hidden meaning behind that was more than clear.) 

 

They aren’t strangers by any means. While they haven’t seen each other (except for the occasional web chat) in four years, they’ve spoken close to every day. Mostly through email, because he was traveling a lot and internet access and phone availability varied, and sometimes over the phone. They’re lives have been in different places for so long and now, it seems like things are finally settling. 

 

“Hey,” she hears from behind her and she turns around with a grin. He’s different in a way, stubble coating his smooth cheeks and older, but still just so Bellamy. Warm and happy and safe. 

 

“Hi,” and she’s flying into his arms with a laugh. He catches her, lifting her feet off the ground and holding her tightly around the waist. 

 

(They probably stand there a little too long, but she’s beyond caring.)

 

“You ready?” he asks after he puts her down. 

 

Yes, she thinks, she’s more than ready. But he’s talking about the ride. 

 

“Let’s do this.” 

 

When they reach the front of the line and the gate opens, she finds that she isn’t nervous. Her hands aren’t shaking and her heart isn’t pounding out of her chest. Instead, when she sits next to him in the car and the attendant checks her seat belt, she’s smiling. Bellamy squeezes her hand, and he doesn’t say it, but she knows exactly what he’s thinking. He’s remembering and thinking about how far things have come. 

 

It’s just as wild as she predicted and she screams as they hit each turn while Bellamy laughs. But she can’t remember ever feeling so alive.  

 

When they reach the end, she’s almost in tears, feeling so many things at once. Exhilarated, overwhelmed, and just so fucking happy.  He’s watching her with something that looks a lot like awe in his features. 

It happens naturally. Their lips meet, softly and sweetly from their seats. She vaguely hears someone make a noise of disgust behind them, but she doesn’t care. He brushes her hair, blown wild by the wind, from her face and it takes every ounce of will power to pull away. 

 

“So what now?” he murmurs softly as the lap bar pops up, releasing them from the ride. He helps her out and they make their way to the exit. 

 

“We keep riding,” she smiles.

 

And so they do. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come hang on tumblr: octannibal-blake.tumblr.com


End file.
